


Enigmatic

by discombobulation



Series: the final frontier (isn’t as great as it seems) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Keith (Voltron), Genderfluid Pidge | Katie Holt, Homophobic Language, Korean Keith (Voltron), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poor Keith, Racist Language, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:10:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discombobulation/pseuds/discombobulation
Summary: 1. adj:difficult to interpret or understand; mysterious-Darker than "Paroxysm", with dub-con themes. Read with caution.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes before we start:
> 
> Keith has two names, his birth name (Keithek Gyeong) and adoptive name (Keith Kagone), but the differences in when they're used should be notable to not bring confusion.
> 
> Also, this is a completely different background than the first in this series. This background is based on whether Galra can become impregnated despite looking masculine, though only True Mates (soulmates) have been seen being able to do this biological phenomena. 
> 
> Pidge switches pronouns depending on how they feel that day, but in most scenes it will probably be They/Them or She/Her.
> 
> I also have it that some Galra have had their lifespans affected by Druids so that they live longer and have more chances of surviving injuries than their underdogs. Thace has been alive for a very long time, but Keith is still 19, almost 20. Pidge is just turned 17. Shiro is 23. Lance and Hunk are 18. 
> 
> I am not a medical student, or an engineer, or a militant strategist, just a writer with a clear look on how I want the chapter to play.  
> Not beta-read. Any and all mistakes are mine.

He loved looking at the unknown; the mysterious; the haunted. To him, the mysterious and enigmatic always had excited him, which is why, he reasoned, he tried as hard as he possibly could to get into space; its vastness swallowing and claustrophobic yet so, so comforting. When other children turned him away, he turned to the astrology books that his father had given him, much too advanced for his five year old self, but they both enjoyed the conversations that would spring from his curiosity, and from his father's eagerness to discuss and talk about it with him. His father would talk about Keith's dad with great admiration and love, something that made Keith ecstatic and also disheartened to see, because accompanying such good feelings were those of sadness and unspoken regret.

Keith would always try to cheer up his father, proclaiming that his dad had just went to go fight aliens and go be strong for his papa, but would receive a pained smile with a gentle closing of the book, his father gently pushing him into his bedroom to sleep. Keith knew that after nights like these, he would go sob in his bed before leaving for his nightshift as a bartender. Keith never mentioned it and his father never made any move to speak about it. And on the next day his father would pick him up from school with a mischievous smile and take Keith to his favorite ice cream shop and book store, proclaiming nothing was too good for his precious moon. Keith would giggle, clinging to his father and kiss his cheek, eyes happy as they gained envious and adoring glances from surrounding patrons. They had loved each other, and despite their poor luck, they had never fought and somehow would have enough money. At least, until the day they didn't.

 

Keith had been drawing in the kitchen when it happened. A banging knock on the doors had startled his father, who looked run down and seemed to age, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail as he chewed pencil ends over scraps of paper Keith had obediently avoided coloring on, eyes flicking up to the clock and down to the papers frantically, lips drawn together in a thin line as he abruptly stood, rubbing Keith's head as he tripped over his feet to get to the door.

"Keith," his father had said with great urgency, panic souring through his veins as he scooped the boy into his arms despite his protests, "You need to hide, buddy. Papa has to talk to his friends, and they aren't very nice to kids."

"But-!" Keith had tried to protest, wiggling around in his father's arms before being stopped by a firm whisper of his name, before he was set down and pushed into the coat closet.

"I need you to stay quiet, alright buddy? If papa doesn't come back, don't leave until the bad men go away, I need you to promise me, Keithek." At the mention of his full name, Keith snapped to alertness, nodding with little protest as he crawled and hid himself in the closet, whimpering as darkness coated him when his father closed the door. "And Keith, papa loves you, buddy. Remember that." And with that, his father had stepped away from the closet, moving towards the door which was now furiously being pounded. He shouted a quick coming before unbolting and unlocking the door, face pale as he saw the grossly dressed men waiting for him.

"It's not time," he protested, backing up as they shoved their way into his home, "I still have another week to pay your boss back." One of the gangsters, tall with Hispanic dark skin laughed, his bigger, Brazilian counterpart seemingly shaking his head in exasperation and disgust at the former. "What are you two doing here, you shouldn't be here!"

"Boss lowered your deadline, squinty," the Hispanic jeered, moving in close, the other male tasting the drugs and alcohol rampant on his breath. Gagging, he tried to move away, only to be stopped by the silent Brazilian god. "Pay up, c'mon, you're Asian, right? 'hought you fuckers were supposed to be intelligent." With a grimace, he struggled in the giants arms, spitting in the Hispanic's face.

He froze. "Oh, you fucking dog eater, you're gonna fuckin' _regret_ that." He pulled out a simple revolver, cocking it and shooting the hostage Korean in the leg, the latter screaming in pain as he dropped, only held by the giant who he realized was _squeezing his wrist, oh god it hurts, it hurts, **it hurts**_ \--

A snap echoed throughout the house, a scream quickly following after it, being silenced by a gunshot and brains spattering against once clean and refined paneling.

"Let's look for the money, torch this place when we leave. Motherfucking queers, man, fucking disgusting." The two made their way throughout the house, cursing every once in a while. They never saw or found or heard Keith.

But Keith heard and saw them murdering his father, the imprint of brains splattering against the wall as his father dropped forever burned into his mind. Stifling whimpers, he pushed himself farther into the closet grappling down a fire red racing jacket that still smelt of his father. Fat tears crawled down his face as he stifled his sobs, curling protectively around his father's jacket, chest moving in heaving gasps as he struggled to stay silent. He fell asleep, tears soaking his face in red lines.

He woke to burning pain along his back. Screaming, he arched forward, pulling away from searching flames and scorching heat, protectively hiding the jacket behind his body. Another sob tore through his throat as he shoved himself into a corner, burned back facing the flames once more as they licked into the room, Keith shaking slightly as he realized he was going to die. Another sob escaped, more following, as the fire started licking up his back and he could hear _shouts and something hurting him_ -

 

* * *

 

"-eith! Keith! Where are you, buddy?" Oh. It was just memories. Or was it? Suddenly, the fire that was licking at his back didn't seem so dreamlike, neither did the electrically charged cuffs that kept him suspended and weak in the cell. He cried out softly, throat ravaged from screams and sobs. How long had it been? Months, days, hours? It had felt so long, much too long to be hours, but everything was coated in a steady haze of blood and darkness and starvation. He was sure his ribs were jutting out, he did see them somewhat when the fire licking at his back had been lit. But blood and darkness didn't mix well together, he had found, blood hiding anything that could be compared to a measurement of time and despair. Once more, the call of calm Hunk's voice - mixed with Shiro's confident but worried one and Lance's hysterical one - with an underlying tone of Pidge shouting directions at them from a little closer, broke him out of his reverie. He struggled to clear his throat of the build up of blood and mucus, which only ended in coughs tearing his throat apart, rocking him towards the flame with some kind of irony. He heard rapid footsteps breaking into a pattering of thuds as his fellow Paladins broke into a run, Pidge slamming into the wall of his cell with a grunt.

"Damnit," they growled, jamming their bayard into the hand scanner. "We'll have to decode this to get to him. Fuck!" Pidge roared, slamming their hand into the door. "Just a little longer, Keith," They whispered, noting that the three males behind them had assumed a defensive position in case any other Galra or sentries had survived the initial raid. Pidge grunted as they pulled out the mobile computer they had installed for situations like this, after all, the Paladins are not idiots. It had been almost eight months after the wormhole incident - Pidge was the first to make their way to the Castle on Lions, being the most uninjured. Hunk was rescued then, and Lance and Shiro were struggling on a mostly water planet, lucky enough to be in the same system but with the Black Lion almost unresponsive and Blue damage. This had happened in the first three months; the only one to not show up was Keith. Hunting the faint and sometimes nonexistent whispers of the Red Lion, they had found themselves upon a Galra Political prisoner interrogation ship, the biggest and most cruel of the Interrogation fleet. Tracking the ship was difficult; it never followed exact patterns for where it would stop and where it would wormhole jump. They, though, had saved many colonies that were invaded by the Galra, and with Allura's help they had been able to restore most of the governments to the colonies, though they had a feeling they would be overran with Galra once more after liberation. But still no Keith, even after all these accomplishments and moments that brought them together.

But now they found him. And they would fight tooth and nail to protect their precious Paladin of Fire, even if that meant killing and destroying an entire fleet of actual Galra to get to him. The Paladins were no longer the black and white morals they were almost a year before; saving the universe calls for much more moral ambiguity than they had ever thought was possible. But now they had Keith back, and Pidge pushed those thoughts away as the door gave a thunderous click, swinging open eerily as the gathered Paladins waited for their eyes to adjust. And they, or at least Pidge, had all felt a rush of something akin to bloodlust and despair for their Keith.

He was chained, feet hanging inches off the ground in limp defeat. He was so, so thin, and had dirty scars and cuts marring his skin. A long, jagged and pink scar trailed down from the very top of his chest to his abdomen, as if they split him open. Worse yet was the smell of burned flesh as they took in the catalyst that jolted the group from their reverie; a bright green flame of medium size, licking at his bare back while he hung in indifference, as if he couldn't feel it. Hunk moved first, taking his bayard and gently shooting the cuffs holding Keith up, Lance and Shiro appearing at his side to hold him up. Pidge stood watch as they transferred Keith onto Hunk's back, trusting him to be gentler with him while they fight their way out. Pidge fell behind Hunk while Shiro and Lance took the front, everyone surrounding Keith to prevent him from becoming even more injured. They watched Keith critically, clicking some buttons on their laptop before shoving it away.

"Bomb time is set! Let's leave this shit show with a bang!" Pidge shouted up towards the others, aware of the steps moving towards them. But they were shocked at what they saw; an unarmed Galra killing and knocking other Galra unconscious. He seemed to notice the Paladins, ending the fight quickly before nodding towards the Paladins.  
  
"Paladins! I am Thace; I will introduce myself more once we are in better conditions. We should be moving quickly, please follow me!" With that, Thace moved to turn around, but instead dodged a swipe from Shiro with a heaving grunt. "I see you have no trust in me, but that isn't horrific of you, considering the circumstance. But the way you came is too dangerous, and you will be blown up with every other disgrace, or the Red Paladin will die before that. You can distrust me all you want, but let me assure that we end up alive once this crusade is over."

"Why should we trust you?" Lance spat, "You are a Galra, meaning that you can't be trusted!"

"Why would I approach you with no arms, Blue Paladin? And are you naïve enough to think all Gal adore the Emperor?"

Pidge interrupted the two males with an impatient shout, "We don't have time to argue! We will kill him if he betrays us, simple as that. But we need to get Keith to the Castle, so let's _move_!" Lance shut his mouth stubbornly, glaring at Thace with contempt. The Galra gave Pidge a stiff nod, and led the Paladins down a side hallway that was almost a direct route towards the main deck of the ship.

 

No one noticed spots of purple skin forming on Keith, nor the faint, glowing undertones of yellow in his eyes before he passed unconscious. _He was safe._

 

* * *

 

They made it back to the Castle of Lions with little hassle, though Thace asked if he could board them and talk to the Princess.

"No way-!" Lance had started to say, only to be cut off by Shiro.

"You may, but the Princess will decide her course of action when you come. But you will remain cuffed and guarded until we can discern whether or not you will be trouble or not." Shiro said, words lace with confidence and soft admonishment towards Lance. "Hunk, Lance, Pidge, keep an eye on Keith while you put him into a pod and make sure everything is fine with the pods. I will escort Thace to Princess and Coran. Come." With a harsh pull, uncharacteristic of Shiro's usual persona. His face was set, harsh, as he forcibly led the prisoner through the castle, taking roundabout ways and backtracking somewhat to prevent him from memorizing the paths of the Castle. He avoided answering as many questions he could, or gave short, one-worded questions. Arriving in the main room, Shiro allowed Thace to move in before him, before standing guard of the exit, staring distrustfully at his back. Allura stood with Coran, backs facing them as she began to speak.

"Good work, Paladins-" She spun around, a welcome smile on her face before she froze mid-sentence, Coran's jaw opened in mute anger and unnerved tension. "Shiro, why is that Galra here?!" Her tone was harsh, icy with dim anger and apathy. She strode forward, head held high as she imposingly perfected her posture, eyes sharp and calculating.

Before Shiro could even open his mouth, Thace had already began speaking, dropping to one knee in a bow. "Princess, I am not sure if you remember myself after ten thousand years, but I am Thace, the previous Emperor's negotiator and general, and one of the many Gal who warned Altea of my Uncle's play to power." Allura looked doubtful for a moment as she took the time to study the calm Galra, eyes searching his blank eyes for _something_ as she examined him. Suddenly, she and Coran threw their arms around the man, who broke his apathetic façade to smile and give them a hearty squeeze as Coran babbled on about _how he didn't look a day younger since he told them of his plans to build a rebellion, oh how the years have changed_ , but they still looked troubled.

"Thace, my dear friend, not that I'm upset for your survival, but how are you still alive? Most of the generals we've encountered are young, but even Galra have a certain age span." Coran questioned, pulling at his mustache with a contemplative look.

"Since my Uncle had came to power, Galran Druids have more liberties than Lyzek, our previous Emperor, had ever given them. And so he ordered them to lengthen his families and most generals life-spans, though that didn't stop most from dying idiotic deaths. But Zarkon isn't the inexperienced cub he once was; his reign is full of terror and despair instead of hope for survival. Most of the Galran population has dropped drastically since the war." As Thace told of the ten thousand years the Alteans had missed, Shiro slipped out of the command room, locking the doors behind him to prevent vengeful Paladins from slipping in without being heard. He was reasonably confused, thinking deeply as he mused over the information he had absorbed in the last few tics.

Speaking into the communication channels of his helmet, he addressed the rest of the team. "Pidge, Lance, Hunk, how's Keith's stats looking?"

Pidge replied first, "He has a hell of a lot of healing to do. When we first got him in, most of the bruises and minor cuts healed, but it looks like the burns on his back are going to take longer, and are going to scar. He also has a cut going down across his eye that's going to scar due to infection. Most of his internal damage was broken ribs and a shattered tibia, but very little inner bleeding. The pod also detected a minor concussion. Total healing time looks like five days to a week."

Lance interrupted their diagnostic report with his voice unusually soft, "Shiro, has Keith been burned before? When we put him in, Pidge said the pod detected previous burn scars on his back that were _really_ old. Like, almost as old as Keith." Shiro frowned, replying back negatively before pausing.

"Let's eat a little to relax, and then hit the simulators and wire them to be a similar situation like this. Allura vouched for Thace, so chances are that we would have been killed along with the Galra and sentries on that ship. We need to eliminate any chances of that, especially if we have Pidge on-field instead of tracking us via hacking in their systems. Hunk, think you can cook something up?" Hunk responded jovially over Lance's obvious protest, promising a meal in fifteen, ten if Lance tested the recipes he's been thinking up. Shiro smiled, glad that his team could finally be a _team_ again, and wondered over to the lounge, meeting with Pidge and trading a silent exchange. They had Keith, and the Galra were _never_ going to get to him again.

 

Pidge wasn't sure how she felt when she saw the purple splotches spreading themselves across her Keith's skin like they owned him. She was sure that there was rage inside her; there always was. But she also knew that the three gut-twisting emotions weren't like rage, and she couldn't figure out what they meant at all. All she knew was that this was still her Keith, despite the dark lavender splotches and scars and pain. And even then, she knew that the overreacting should be saved for him, and _she_ would be there to slap sense and comfort him, not Shiro or Matty or _anyone_. 

She wasn't the same Katie as _before_ ; she's not silly Katie pulling pranks and trying to finesse her brother's friend into kissing her and treating her like how she wanted him to treat her. Now she was Pidge, and Pidge wanted Keith. She wanted him to rely on her; to trust her and care for her and allow her to know his secrets. She craved his attention, in ways that she’s never craved attention from Matty, Shiro, or any one else. She was young, younger than him than she originally thought, but she wouldn’t let that stop her if she could just get his oblivious self to recognize that she had feelings for him. _But all in due time_ , she promised herself. _All in due time_.


End file.
